Jake had screamed and hidden his eyes in Mason’s coat as the first zombie reached through the slats of the wagon to touch his foot. He’d crawled into Mason’s lap and refused to look for the rest of the ride. Mason hadn’t allowed his son to go back until he was twelve.

He grinned at the memory. Jake had had nightmares for months, and Robin wouldn’t let Mason forget he’d overruled her opinion that their son was too young for the terrifying ride. By the time Jake went again, he’d mastered the disdainful junior high attitude and claimed the ride was “for babies.” But Mason saw the pulse in his neck speed up at the sight of the new and improved zombie horde that rushed their wagon.

He stepped out and slammed his vehicle door. The house was a traditional-looking white farmhouse and it surprised him that a man as young as Scott lived here. He’d pictured Scott in an urban loft in northwest Portland where he shouldered his bike up and down the stairs for his green commute. This house was nearly twenty miles out of the city. It needed a family with lots of kids who rescued stray cats and retired greyhounds.

The walkway was brick and its pavers looked fresh and clean. He took the half-dozen stairs up to the wide wraparound porch, noticing that the paint looked immaculate though the house had to be nearly a hundred years old. He knocked heavily on the wooden door, hoping that Scott could hear him inside the big home. An antique glass inset in the door reminded him of looking through a kaleidoscope as a kid. He admired the dozens of intricate glass pieces, wondering if anyone still spent the time to create that quality of work, and abruptly remembered the last time he’d stood in front of this door.

Ava grabbed a sandwich from the deli tray at the back of the room. The task force room was empty, but she could tell several people had been there. Only ham sandwiches were left and all the bags of chips were gone except for two bags of Sun Chips.

That was fine with her. She opened a bag and shoved a few chips into her sandwich. She was crunching noisily when Zander and Nora walked in. Zander gave no sign that he’d been nearly incapacitated twelve hours before until he looked at her sandwich and glanced away.

Apparently his stomach was not fully recovered.

“How was your conversation with Jeanine Fujioka?” Nora asked.

“Good,” said Ava through a mouthful of sandwich. She swallowed. “She has a solid support system in her mother, and I think she’ll get through it. Eventually.”

“She have any insights?” Zander asked.

“She couldn’t think of anyone who was angry enough with Lucien to murder him. She did talk about his time with Cops 4 Kidz and that got me thinking a little bit.”

Nora raised her brows. “What’d she tell you?”

“She thinks some of the mothers who enrolled their kids in the program might have ulterior motives.”

“Getting close to a cop,” suggested Zander, looking resigned.

“Exactly,” said Ava. “I can see you’re not surprised.”

“Not one bit.”

“Her husband encountered some crazies?” Nora asked.

“Definitely. One was nuts enough to make him stop mentoring her son and go work in another city.”

“Christ. That’s extreme,” Zander said.

“I plugged her and her son’s names into our computers. Neither have records and they both show current residences in Louisiana and it looks like they moved six years ago. I wonder if Lucien was aware of that. If I’d had a stalker I would have kept tabs on where they lived, but Jeanine seemed to be under the impression that Lucien hadn’t received any information about the woman since he left the Vancouver department.” If Ava had been his wife, she would have occasionally asked if he knew what the woman was up to. But Jeanine had said Lucien liked to avoid work conversation. Perhaps, in her mind, this fell into that category.

Had Lucien and Jeanine assumed that it could never turn violent? Had the fact that the stalker was female made them assume she’d go away?

“Have we given enough thought to our female killer theory?” Ava asked, thinking of Sonja Parish. “We have those long hairs and we’re pretty sure a bat was used to incapacitate three of them, I think that opens it up to either sex.”

“Euzent seemed convinced we’re dealing with a man,” Nora said slowly. “The brutality of the deaths and the fact that it had to take some muscle to maneuver the bodies of Weldon and Samuelson. Since there was exactly one long hair on the bodies, I felt as if it was deliberately placed there . . . maybe to mislead us.”

“Audrey Kerth saw a man leave the Fujioka scene,” added Ava.

“We have one eyewitness to that scene. Eyewitnesses make mistakes,” Zander said. “Perhaps she didn’t see everyone who was present. Someone else could have left in another direction.”

“We haven’t found a hair in the evidence from that scene, right?” asked Ava. “Maybe he didn’t plant it in the confusion. I think we’re right about that murder not going as he expected. I do think a woman could still have been involved . . . either alone or as a partner.”

“Even Micah brought up that someone with the right equipment could have hung Weldon on their own. That applies to the Samuelson case, too. With enough planning, a woman—”

“Or she had someone with her to help with the heavy lifting,” suggested Zander.

“Are you saying there’s an angry mom out there that wanted to exact revenge? Revenge for what?” asked Nora.